Names
by KillerSockz
Summary: "In all our years of acquaintance, Potter and I have never really called each other by our given names" HPDM. 1st chapter rewritten. 2nd chapter is a peek into Malfoy's adjustment issues.
1. Chapter 1

AN: To be honest, I haven't read the books in years. It's just that one of the biggest things I can't seem to find natural in this fandom is that often, when Draco and Harry get together, they fall deeply in love, immediately forget their history, throw reason into the wind, and start to call each other by their first names. Maybe it's because I'm an American, and have never consistently used a peer's surname or considered given names a special thing to call somebody, but I honestly think that if the circumstances ever aligned in a way that would make Drarry possible, they would continue to use Potter and Malfoy, because of the familiarity… maybe as pet names.

AN2: Edited for quality.

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><p>In all our years of acquaintance, Potter and I have never once called each other by our given names.<p>

Not when we were rival children, not when we were tolerant adults, not when we were ministry acquaintances, and – yes – not even as lovers, sharing a home.

Naturally this is in part due to the fact that I simply hate his name. Harry. It sounds like the name you'd give a farm boy. Potter, of course, was obviously not much better, but I just can't imagine Potter as "Harry" in my mind.

When I think of Potter I think of wonderful things. When I think of "Harry" all I can come up with is a burly child with no shoes.

No I can't think of him as Harry, and I sure as hell can't call him Harry. I even dare to imagine he feels the same.

Ha. I can see his trademark grimace in my mind at the mere thought. The reaction spreads across not only his face, but his entire body. Like the lightning donning his brow, in a flash, Harry's entire being is consumed with displeasure when he's met with something revolting. His nose crinkles, his shoulders hunch at the angle furthest away from his distress, and his toes curl in.

It was almost cute.

But I digress. The point is that we have always been Potter and Malfoy to one another.

Always.

Honestly I think its better this way. Comfortable. Us.

The names are habit. The names are boundaries. To break them... to cross them.. would be unnatural. I bet I would be completely revolted if he called me-

"Draco?"

_Damn it _Potter, I'm in the middle of a monologue.

I glance up from the Daily Prophet, irritated. He looks at me guiltily over his cereal, knowing _damn well_what he just did.

I sigh.

We have a history of being on the same wavelength.

We _also_ have had a history of always being on _opposing_ _sides_ of said wavelength.

Well it certainly isn't that I don't understand the significance of a given name.

But is this really a line I'm willing to cross today?

Isn't he scared too?

In silent protest, I glare at him a moment before straightening and returning to my newspaper. Only now he's moved. Now he's standing behind me, wrapping a scrawny, naked arm around my upper body.

I sigh and fold the paper, waving him off with it.

He relinquishes control of my body to me.

I turn, silently begging him to reconsider.

He kisses me, "Draco".

We part.

He pouts.

I plead.

He argues, "Draco,"

In the end I give up.

It's a small compromise, "...Harry".

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><p>Hope you enjoyed. Please leave me a review, I love hearing opinions.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Panting.

Darkness.

Sweat sliding on sweat.

Grabbing.

Desperate thrusting.

"Gods! Merlin!" Who said this I couldn't really say. I hold onto the mattress for dear life. For sanity. Above me rides a skinny brunette man, glasses fogged beyond usefulness. I force my hips to rise in rhythm with his movements.

Grinding.

Angling.

Pulling him down onto me.

"Please please please," I love it when he begs.

Nnn. This is insane. I may go insane. I may already be insane. Insanity feels amazing. So close, "Potter... I'm about..."

And then it all stops.

First I realize that I haven't cum. It takes a little while to understand what's going on around me. Dizzily, I drink in the sight of that cum guzzling bastard Potter sticking his immature little tongue at me and walking into the bathroom with a smirk.

Wait but.

What?

Potter just-

Wait.

Fuck.

I realize my misstep.

Fucking.

Fuck.

Bastards.

I bolt out of bed and try to get into the bathroom. No luck. Locked. The message is clear.

"HARRY. HARRY. For fuck's sake! I'll call you HARRY but for the love of mercy get back to bed!"

An empathic and frustratingly amused "nah" bounces off bathroom tiles. Another sound seems to be bouncing as well. Potter's fucking _wanking. _I feel a twitch in my still-hard nether-regions, coupled with a twitch on my forehead.

Resigning to misery and anger, I collapse back onto the sheets, cursing him off as loud as I can and thumbing my own erection.

Honestly. He's being difficult for no reason.

As I relieve myself bitterly, I do my best to chant '_harry' _in my head.

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><p>Thanks for reading!<p>

And thanks in advance for reviewing. Nudge. Nudge. Just want to prove to myself that all my hits aren't bots.


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